


Evidence of Need

by robotsnchicks



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel (Supernatural), But the porn is more implied, Canon Compliant, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Marking, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 12:24:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14308575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robotsnchicks/pseuds/robotsnchicks
Summary: It's hardly any wonder that Dean wants to spread his love upon Cas’ skin in shades of red and black-and-blue. To declare to the world that Castiel is his. That he's found his hope, and his faith, and his home, and his reward.





	Evidence of Need

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to amirosebooks for taking a look at this and making sure my phone did not auto correct and ruin everything.
> 
>  
> 
> Lately every time I try to write a little pwp I end up with thousands of words of something totally different. I manage to keep this short but it ended up more about feelings than porn anyway. I hope you still enjoy!

The first time Dean has Cas bare before him, acres of warm skin stretched out on his bed, he's nearly overcome with the need to mark it. To cover every inch of it with the impressions of his teeth and nails, to leave bruises from his hands and fingertips, and sensitive burns from rubbing the stubble of his jaw against Cas’ most secret places. He wants every gorgeous patch of skin to be branded with his claim just like he wore Castiel’s claim long ago. Even if it's where people will see, especially if it's where people will see it.

But he resists. 

Because he knows it's considered gauche and immature. A necklace of hickeys is something only acceptable to see on teenagers that don't know any better. And he gets it. He hasn't even wanted to do it to anyone since he was a teenager.

But it's different with Cas. Everything is different. When they come together it’s giddy and perfect and exciting just like the flush of teenage love but coupled with feelings built up over the years and the thrill of getting something that was so damn long in coming. So it's hardly any wonder that he wants to spread his love upon Cas’ skin in shades of red and black-and-blue. To declare to the world that Castiel is his. That he's found his hope, and his faith, and his home, and his reward. 

But he resists.

Until Cas shows he has no such qualms himself. 

Cas marks Dean with reckless abandon. He presses his teeth to Dean’s neck, biting down in the same place that vamp got him years ago. A new, much more pleasant, sense memory to replace the old one. He leaves bracelets of bruises on Deans wrists from holding him down and using his grace to bring him off again and again while Dean weeps and pleads and thrashes beneath him. He slams his hand down on Dean’s left deltoid, leaving a fresh red handprint as he growls, _“I never should have healed this,”_ while Dean gasps his agreement and pushes into the touch harder, wondering if he can get in to see a tattoo artist before the new handprint fades. 

Not all of the marks that Cas leaves show on Dean’s skin, but some of the ones that don't are his favorites. The hot white lines of Cas’ release on his closed eyes and lips, painting him in the most intimate of ways. The words and phrases in enochian that his fingertips trace across Dean's skin. The wet trails of tears he sometimes drips onto Dean after a particularly close call. None of these marks show on the surface but the imprint they leave on his soul remains.

Eventually Dean feels comfortable to leave marks of his own. A purpling bruise over the pulse in Cas’ neck where Dean sucks on it, chanting in his head, _“You're alive, alive, alive”_. The perfect imprint of his teeth in the right globe of Cas’ ass which brings an indignant squawk that soon turns to sighs and gasps of _“yes”_ and _“more”_ when Dean soothes the mark with lips and tongue. The red lines that cover either side of Cas’ spine after a particularly good night spent teasing each other incessantly again and again.

Dean leaves invisible marks of his own too. The gentle press of lips to the tattoo on Cas’ ribs — an unspoken promise that Cas will never need to hide alone again. The whispers of _“I need you, I need you, I **love** you,”_ that he mouths into the juncture of Cas’ hip and thigh when he's so full of love and longing that he thinks he might burst. The sweat, and dirt, and grime, that he smears across Cas’ skin when he's too hungry, too desperate, too needy to wait long enough for a shower or even for the split-second snap of Cas’ fingers to scour him clean before pressing into him for a kiss.

The marks leave him happy and sated, but at first Dean asks Cas to heal them afterwards, letting him leave the ache and throb of their passion but hiding the surface marks so nobody can see. It becomes clear though that both of them crave the visible reminder. The proof on the skin that what they have is real and not some dream or fantasy. So eventually things change. And now, when they have a hunt the next day or just when Dean is feeling every single one of his years, he lets Cas remove some of the pain but never the evidence on his skin. 

And yeah, sometimes it’s embarrassing. When Sam sees the obvious evidence of a night well spent sometimes his lips press together in that look of brotherly annoyance that he does so well. And sometimes when Dean's paying for gas and his collar moves enough to show the purple hickeys decorating his flesh the cashier rolls her eyes. He's sure there are countless other looks he misses as well, from people who think it's tacky and that he's way too old to carry these marks on his skin.

But one of the most important things Dean's learning lately is how not to care.

Because the thing is, a lot of people, a lot of creatures, a lot of _things_ , have touched both of them without their consent and left their marks over the years. But when they go out now, the scratches and bruises that cover them are by choice. They are marks of love not hate. They are badges of waiting for too long and finally getting what you want. 

They say, I am my beloved's and he is mine.


End file.
